13. Kai
Kai
There she is.
Strapped to the St Andrew’s Cross, completely naked. Completely stripped back.
I knew exactly where she’d be when I stepped out of the meeting room and saw she was missing.
Every man in the club looked away from me, suddenly finding their drinks very interesting. Luckily for me, they fear me more than they fear Kaleb.
Where Kaleb wears his cruelty with pride, mine is more unpredictable.
Unpredictability makes people nervous.
It took a matter of seconds before someone pointed in the direction of the factory, muttering Kaleb’s name.
I had the walk over to imagine what he was doing to the girl. Never in my thoughts could I have conjured this.
Pain blooms in my grinding jaw as I make my way to the girl. She’s looking at me like she can’t quite tell if I’m real or not. If I’m just her vision doubling.
My eyes take one drag down her body.
Piercings.
I swallow at the sight. Raw and new. My hands itch the play with them. Make her scream around the gag.
And that is the fucking problem.
“Turn it down,” I mutter, bringing my gloved hand up to push her soaked hair from her sweaty face.
Not off, just down.
If he turned it completely off, she wouldn’t be able to adjust. She’d sink so far into that place she’s already skirting, it’d be almost impossible to bring her back.
She whimpers, her eyelids drooping at my touch. It takes everything for me to keep my hand on her. Soothing her.
You don’t soothe people. You hurt.
Yet, I can’t seem to stop.
“No,” Kaleb growls.
I feel his glare warming my back before I glance sidelong at him.
He’s angry. He can be angry all he wants.
His eyes search my face, turning hard when he sees whatever he sees.
“I said, turn it down,” I warn again.
The icy fury running through my veins is diluted by the sound of her slick entrance, being abused by the motorised toy. She sounds soaked. Gasping whines slipping past the gag.
“Why?” Kaleb sneers. “So you can be the hero?”
I don’t reply. Either he turns it down or I'll break the hand holding the remote.
He takes a step towards me, shoulders squaring, ready for a fight.
His lip curls. “Newsflash, brother. You are not the hero. You will never be the hero. People like us,” he gestures between us, “will always be the villain. I don’t know when you forgot that.”
As if I don’t know that. As if I don’t know that every touch I give leaves pain in its wake. As if I don’t know what my hands are capable of. Yet, when she leans into my touch despite it all, the thing in my chest gives a single, unfamiliar beat.
Our identical eyes burn into each other. But then her pained whine finds me again, and I break the contact.
Her eyes are glazed over, lashes fluttering over and over. Trying to hold on when her body wants to give up. Handling everything my brother has done to her so perfectly.
Something steels inside of me and I turn back to my brother, taking a final step towards him.
He smirks without it reaching his eyes.
Scoffing, he shoves the remote into my chest, shaking his head as he marches past me, making sure to clip my shoulder with his on the way out.
The sound of the door slamming shut echoes as I turn to the girl.
Working the remote, I turn the machine down low, so that the thick toy leisurely drives in and out of her used cunt.
My fingers find the buttons on the wand until the buzzing sound dies down to a dull hum.
A sob slips past the gag as she slumps against her restraints, her chest heaving with relief. All it does is draw my attention down to her pierced nipples.
Did she scream when he pierced her flesh? Did she cry and beg?
The thought of it has my cock twitching.
I’m not the hero, of that I know.
But she looks at me like I am, with those huge blue eyes.
One hand rests on her cheek, thumb swiping the tears and smudges of mascara, while the other works the strap of the ball gag. Once it becomes loose, I ease it from her mouth slowly, letting her jaw adjust to the freedom.
As soon as I’ve eased it from her tongue, a pained whimper falls from her lips.
“Kai,” she slurs, saliva slipping past her lips. “You were... and there were two... and...”
My fingers press against her lips, pausing the words spilling out of them.
I won’t whisper words of comfort. I don’t have any to offer.
But I can’t seem to stop my hands from smoothing her hair back and staring down at her shivering body. Raw heat radiates off her, sweat dripping down her chest and her taut stomach.
“It hurts,” she whimpers. “It hurts so good, Kai. I’m going to... come!”
A squeal tears from her as her body locks up. A slow orgasm works its way through, shuddering and painful.
“That’s it,” I murmur, surprising even myself. My voice comes out cracked and raw. “One more time for me.” Her eyes squeeze shut. And I reach up to grip her chin, the leather around my glove creaking. “Keep those eyes on me.”
When she opens them, my knees feel like they’ll buckle. My brother might have thought he was ruining her for me. He did the opposite. He stripped her down, tore her apart, and the end result is... breathtaking.
She looks at me as if I don’t scare her. She looks at me like I might be capable of something other than pain. She looks at me like I haven’t earned every nightmare that follows my name.
I can barely stand to look back.
My knuckle slides down her throat, her saliva smearing down her chest with each movement. Down to that tattoo.
Glistening with sweat and spit, the design looks even more disturbing. Her skin jumps under my touch, her oversensitive body reacting to even the lightest of sensations.
Slowly, I crouch down in front of her.
Her cunt is neatly groomed and her arousal is dripping down the toy. First, I turn off the wand, gently ripping the duct tape from her thigh, yet loving the way she cries out in pain.
When I remove the vibration from her clit, she lets out a keening sound full of relief and mourning. Unsure if she wants it gone or needs it there.
My thumb swipes over her swollen clit, just a whisper of a touch and her back arches off the cross, head thrown back on a moan.
Oh, the fucking things I could do to you. The way I could ruin you.
It physically pains me to remove my hand from her cunt and focus on the machine that lazily fucks her. Black silicone shining with her cum.
When the machine cuts off, I pull it away from her core and the building falls silent except for her short breaths.
Her lips are red and raw, pussy stretched from the overuse.
My muscles are stiff by the time I convince myself to stand and not run my tongue over her aching slit.
She needs to stop looking at me like that. Why is she looking at me like that?
“Does it hurt, Roxy?” I murmur, pressing my body against hers.
She hisses as her nipples press against my leather vest, the fresh piercings sending pain through the sensitive flesh.
Her lip trembles, eyes drooping.
My hand comes up to rest around her throat. Not putting pressure, just holding. “I asked you a question.”
Her brows furrow as she tries to hold on to my words. A tear falls past her lashes as she nods.
Good.
“But...” she starts, and I hold my breath, waiting for her answer. “I feel... I feel... warm.”
Her pouty lips twist at the sides, like this is something to smile about. Like we gave her peaceful orgasms in missionary style while whispering sweet nothings in her ear, and not the torture she just endured.
My hands drop to my sides, a slight tremor wracking through them.
It takes me three tries to form the words on my tongue. “Let’s get you home.”
Searching for her clothes, I’m not surprised to see them torn to shreds by the slice of a knife.
“I’ll be back,” I mutter into the dark space.
Her eyes widen, head shaking frantically. “No! You... can’t go...”
She fights the restraints all over again, wrists straining against the straps that have already broken the skin. Her breathing picks up, her panic finding me. Her hand still has that bandage on, fingers fisting over the dressing.
My feet freeze on the spot.
“Please,” she whimpers.
My jaw flexes.
I close the distance between us without another word, crouching down to remove the chains and straps that secure her ankles. The muscles in her thighs shake from pure exhaustion.
I don’t meet her eyes when I stand and work on the straps around her wrists. Can’t.
As soon as she’s freed, she falls into me, limbs too tired to help her stand. Shrugging off my vest, I ease her arms into it, watching the leather swallow her whole.
It’s not enough to keep her warm, but it’s enough to ensure no one else gets to see her like this.
Picking her up is too easy; her small frame wrapping around me like a child. The way she clings to my neck, her legs around my torso, holding on for dear life, has that fucking tremor starting again in my hands.
If only she knew I wasn’t the safe space she thinks I am.
Yet, she holds me like I’m the only thing she trusts in this world.
And my shaking hands hold her back.
The entire car ride to the apartment is torture. Worse than the kind she just went through.
Curled up on the seat, with the heaters blasting, her soft, dazed eyes stayed on me. I feel them, refusing to glance back. What she’ll see in me is nothing but cruelty.
Things I want to do to her, even now. Even in her state.
She thinks Kaleb is evil. She can’t even comprehend how wrong she is.
Carrying her up to the apartment is like a brand; her body searing into mine.
I need to leave.
But I can’t. First, I help her into the shower, holding her body up from falling onto the shining tiles. I drag a warm cloth over her skin, cleaning her slowly. Dragging it over her pained core pulls a gasp from her lips.
Her eyes are heavy, minutes away from passing out. When she reaches to grab the hem of my shirt, with a raspy, “Join me,” all I can do is grip her wrists to stop her.
She can’t do that. Can’t see the real me.
Warm water soaks through my shirt as she curls into my chest anyway. My body doesn’t know what to do with it, my unfamiliar pulse hammering.
My hands on her keep tightening before I convince them to loosen.
By the time I’m wrapping her in a soft dressing gown and carrying her to the bed, my whole body feels like it’s going to snap. Every rigid muscle and locked joint strains beneath my skin.
My control is barely holding on.
Her dazed eyes flutter shut as soon as her head hits the pillow, and I all but sprint out of the room. I don’t stop until I get to the car, shooting off a message to Ash.
Send someone to guard Roxy’s door now.
Noone steps foot inside unless she’s in immediate danger.
Okay boss. Want my vest too?
I ignore it, flying down the highway toward my home. Where I know my brother waits for me. Where he has to be waiting for me.
As soon as I step into our apartment, the one underneath Ash’s penthouse, he’s there. I feel him in the shadows before I see him.
Sitting ramrod straight in a chair, waiting for me.
My breathing is shallow, hands curling into fists at my side, before stretching out.
My head drops, my view of the ground blurring. But I can hear him. Hear him stand up from his chair. Hear the belt sliding from his pants.
“I tried to warn you, brother,” he murmurs, advancing on me.
I swallow, but it feels like I’m drowning.
His boots come into focus. “When are you going to realise that no one knows you better than I do?”
He’s right. I should have known.
My lip trembles.
He hooks a finger under my chin, forcing me to look at him. His dark eyes bore into mine. “Now look at you...”
If I could feel shame, I’d be burning from the inside out.
I feel nothing but violence.
“Please,” I whisper, dropping to my knees.
The belt folds in half, and I hear my brother inhale slowly through his nose. He hates that he has to do this. I know he does.
The first strike is my favourite. The one that catches me off guard and ignites pain across my back and ribs.
For the first time today, I can breathe.
“Harder,” I growl.
And he listens.
My muscles loosen.
“Again,” I plead.
But I can still see her glazed eyes blinking at me. I can still feel her clinging to me.
“Again!”
This one lands over my shoulders, blinding pain exploding across the skin.
“Maybe now you’ll realise she isn’t worth it,” he whispers.
When his next strike lands, a thought slips through the pain.
The worst part is that she is.